In fact, she was almost as good at undercover work as he was. Except that she took foolish chances. As if she had nothing to lose.

Damn! She was the last person he wanted to see. What the hell was she doing in San Marcos—much less at a party being held at Miguel Sanchez’s town house? What possible reason would San Marcos’s army commander in chief have for inviting her? Jed couldn’t think of one.

After promising that he’d talk with the minister about mining loans later in the week, he excused himself and made his way across the room. The nearer he got to Marissa, the more burningly aware of her he became. He couldn’t possibly be close enough to smell her perfume, yet he imagined the scent of gardenia drifting toward him. She was wearing a little black dress that she probably didn’t think of as sexy. But it emphasized her narrow waist and sassy little hips. He hadn’t seen the front, but he knew it would be clinging to her high, firm breasts.

He scowled. He’d better keep his mind on business.

He could see she was finishing a conversation with Thomas Leandro, the outspoken university professor who’d made his reputation with pie-in-the-sky blueprints for turning the Central American republic into a socialist paradise. The professor was on Jed’s list, too. But he could wait.

When Leandro went off toward the buffet table, Jed stepped into Marissa’s path. Her cheeks took on a hint of heightened color, and her blue eyes widened and darkened: but the momentary lapse was her only betrayal of surprise—or anything else.

No matter how many times they met, he was never prepared for her reaction to him. As if she were suppressing strong emotions she didn’t want him to read—or couldn’t acknowledge. Whenever he’d tried to find out what was going on below the surface of those beautiful blue eyes, they had iced over. The rebuffs had hurt his ego. He’d vowed never to let it happen again.

“Jed. How nice to see you. Are you here on behalf of the Global Bank?”

Smooth, he thought. As if they were nothing more than friendly colleagues who traveled in the same business circles.

“Yes,” he replied, matching her coolness.

They studied each other carefully.

What was she planning for the evening, he wondered. Did she already know he’d be prowling the same turf? Or was she as unpleasantly surprised as he had been? Only one of them was going to leave the capital city with the evidence he’d come to steal. He was going to make damn sure of that.

“You’re a long way from Baltimore,” he remarked.

She hesitated before replying. “Yes.”

“So what brings you to San Marcos?”

“Oh, you know. My usual. I’m scouting out off-the-beaten-track vacation locations for Adventures in Travel.”

“Latch onto anything exciting?”

“I should be able to set up a jungle trip to some partially excavated Mayan ruins. And there are excellent snorkeling and diving opportunities along the coral reef. I think I can guide visitors to a stingray feeding location.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“Not when you know what you’re doing.”

“Be careful.”

“Oh, I will.”

“I didn’t realize you knew Miguel Sanchez.”

“I don’t. Ted Bailey at the embassy was kind enough to get me on the guest list.”

“Then you’re on assignment for the State Department?”

“No.”

It was a good bet she was lying. He knew she often mixed undercover work for Victor Kirkland at State with travel agency research. He was about to probe a little further when one of the uniformed staff approached them.

“Se~norita Devereaux?”

“S'i.”

“Tel'efono para usted.”

She gave Jed an apologetic look. “I’ll see you later.”

“Expecting an important call?”

For a split second she looked as if she weren’t sure how to reply. Then she shrugged and followed the man who had delivered the message.

As Jed watched the servant lead her toward a back hall, he wondered if there was some way he could listen in on the phone conversation.

He’d memorized the floor plan of the house. There was another access to the hall, from a door off the enclosed patio.

As if he had nothing more important to do than get a breath of fresh air, he wandered casually toward the French doors.

When he stepped onto the stone terrace, the tropical night, rich with the scent of flowers, enveloped him. It took several moments for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. As they did, he went very still. Marissa had come out the side door he’d been heading for and was walking rapidly toward the far wing of the house where the office complex was located. The office complex that was strictly off-limits to everyone except Sanchez and his handpicked staff. Jed had heard stories of summary executions of suspected spies caught there.